


Inspiration Point

by wigglebox



Series: Supernatural - Season 15 Coda Fics [6]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Canon Compliant, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Post-Break Up, References to Depression
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-30
Updated: 2019-11-30
Packaged: 2021-02-18 12:01:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,392
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21610561
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wigglebox/pseuds/wigglebox
Summary: Cas takes off, driving until he winds up at the feet of giants.Coda Fic for 15x06 "Golden Time"
Series: Supernatural - Season 15 Coda Fics [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1514216
Comments: 16
Kudos: 56
Collections: The Destiel Fan Survey Favs Collection





	Inspiration Point

**Author's Note:**

> Excuse me for a while,  
> Turn a blind eye  
> With a stare caught right in the middle  
> Have you wondered for a while  
> I have a feeling deep down?  
> You're caught in the middle
> 
> Strong - London Grammar

1

On the third day in Wyoming, Cas took a walk. 

From his cabin, the white peaks of the Grand Tetons stood out against the blue sky, bright and ever-present guardians over the town. The morning sun illuminated the snow so vividly, imprints of the mountains followed when Cas looked away to the darker parts of the room. 

Cas sat on the bed, staring at those mountains the first day he arrived in town. 

The older lady at the check-in counter waxed poetic on the hiking trails in the area, having lived in town her entire life. She had a new tourist in her grasp, and damn if she was going to let go. Cas listened, nodding along when her voice raised in pitch as she opened up a map, pointing out all the best spots for Cas to explore: Taggart Lake, Jenny Lake, Inspiration Point -- the list went on.

Cas, for his part, took the brochure along with his keys and attempted a smiled at the woman who beamed back. As soon as he turned, his face dropped to the same frowning position it had been since [he got in the car fourteen hours prior.](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21192068)

For the first time in years, Cas felt tired. During the drive, each and every brick of emotion came crashing down, causing Cas to white-knuckle his way through the twisted, turning roads. By the time he checked in, walked to his cabin, and sat on the bed, a wave of exhausted cascaded over him. The feeling brought on a small spike of fear, forcing Cas upright and staring out the window instead of giving in to the soft mattress. 

He doesn’t _get_ tired. 

Seven hours later, Cas woke in the middle of the night with his coat tangled around him, horizontal on the bed. 

2

Boredom consumed Cas from one in the morning to dawn. He slipped into short dozes in bed, then in the armchair on the other side of the room, but nothing quite as deep as the unconscious state hours earlier. 

There were some books leftover by other tourists on the otherwise barren bookshelf. Cas avoided the older content and swiped a book with a publishing date of the previous year. The ending wasn’t spoiled for that one, something he never forgave Metatron for. 

The book’s story carried him through to dawn, the sun hitting the peaks of the mountains, drawing his attention away from the pages. It was a beautiful sight on the simplest level but intimidating just under the surface. Claustrophobia. The valley found itself boxed in by mountain, left, right, up, down -- but follow the river and you’ll make it out fine. 

Cas closed the book and forced his gaze away from the snow-covered giants. He needed to get out of the small space, get some sun and fresh air… maybe a cup of coffee.

Gathering his coat, he grabbed the room key. When Cas dropped the key in his coat pocket, he felt the metal hit his phone, forgotten about until that moment. Part of him wanted to take it along, because _what it --_

Logic won, however, and Cas dug it out of his pocket and placed it on the bookshelf. 

_No new messages_.

The old couple from Minneapolis convinced Cas to try fishing. 

He had breakfast at Dornan’s, a local one-stop-shop for food, alcohol, and moose themed souvenirs. Cas managed to snag a seat to himself before the morning crowd came in for eggs and bacon. Halfway through a cup of coffee, an old man came over and asked if he could use the unused second chair at Cas’s table. Cas nodded, taking another sip. The man didn’t take off with the seat but lingered, taking in Cas’s appearance. 

“Flew the coop?” 

Cas frowned, looking back up at the man, “I’m sorry?” 

The man pushed the chair over by the table as his wife sat down and pointed at Cas.

“City boy right? Tie, trench coat, stressful job -- had one final Friday night of too much caffeine and decided to drive west and see where you landed?” 

“That sounds like a specific reenactment,” Cas answered, straightening up. 

The man smiled and shrugged, “Happened to me nearly three decades ago. Wound up here from Wall Street before moving to Minnesota. People don’t often show up in the valley with a suit and tie unless they had an existential crisis. I’m Chris by the way.” 

Chris shuffled over and extended his hand, which Cas shook with little effort. 

“You’re correct on some accounts,” Cas started, clearing his throat and killing the need to overshare, “Felt overwhelmed and drove west, rented a cabin for a week.”

“Thinking about staying longer?”

Cas paused.

“Not sure.”

Chris invited Cas to sit with him and his wife, and Cas surprised himself by agreeing without a moment’s hesitation. 

He didn’t realize until then how much he wanted to talk to someone. Betty Mae at check-in didn’t give him a chance, and the last week was just -- bad.

In the course of two hours, Cas learned the Whites, Chris and Margot, visited Jackson Hole valley every autumn from September to Mid-November; They liked the hiking and mountains ( _Minneapolis is bleak_ ); Their two sons lived in Europe; The couple both worked at a credit union ( _Where we first met!_ ) until retiring three years ago. 

Then they asked Cas the questions.

A small amount of pride grew in him for his ability to spin a story that made sense: Gave his name ( _Clarence_ ), and city, ( _St. Louis_ ), and what vexed him --

“I guess I realized the stress wasn’t worth it in the end,” He said, finishing his coffee as Chris and Margot looked on sympathetically, “A lot of demands but nothing in return.”

Job? What _was_ his job? Regional sales manager for -- _what was that show about?_ Office supplies. 

“Oh that’s tough,” Margot shook her head and gave a knowing glance to Chris, “Everyone thinks you’re their therapist and dumps everything on you!” 

“Margot was a manager at the credit union,” Chris smiled, patting his wife’s arm. Margot reciprocated with a warm smile and placed her hand over his. 

Cas felt a small ripple of nausea begin. 

“You know how it is! Everyone thinks you can magically solve every problem when most of the time your hands are tied. It’s a struggle. Thankfully most of my employees understood that.” Margot sighed and frowned, “Sounds like yours didn’t.”

Cas shook his head and swallowed, looking down at his hands gripping the now empty mug. He wanted a refill. 

“Hey, you got a fishing pole?” Chris asked after a moment of silence while Cas continued to contemplate how many coffees he could have before it started to affect him. 

“No. Never fished before.” Cas answered feeling the ripple of nausea form into a wave, threatening to rise. He didn’t want to fish, he didn’t want to fish at all -- 

“Well if you’re gonna spend some time here, you’re gonna need a rod. We know a guy. What do you say? We’re heading to Jenny Lake in about an hour. Wanna join?”

The joy Cas felt at having a normal conversation quickly soured, mouth going dry. He didn’t want to join at all. Chris and Margot and their tales from Minnesota were nice but he didn’t want to go to the lake. He didn’t know how to fish, didn’t want to learn, didn’t -- 

“Sure,” Cas replied, forcing himself to smile, “That sounds great, thank you.”

They took him to Simmzy’s, the bait shop only two buildings down. Cas trudged along behind them feeling like an overgrown child.

The man in the shop, turned when Margot shouted _Andy!_ , and smiled under a massive amount of beard. He shook Chris’’ hand and hugging Margot, pausing when he got to Cas.

“Your son joinin’ you this time? Was wondren when he’d stop by.”

Cas opened his mouth to correct him but Margot beat him to it.

“Just a wayward wanderer in your little town! He’s never been fishing before and we were hoping you can help set him up?” 

With a start, Cas realized the last of the money he had as an emergency fund went to paying the cabin for a week. All he had left was a twenty. He patted his jacket, pretending he forgot his wallet, hoping he could slip out with an excuse -- 

“Oh don’t even worry about it dear,” Margot swatted at Cas, “You put a little good into the universe and the good will find its way back!”

Chris nodded and the man hummed in agreement as he moved over to the rods. 

Cas wanted to run. 

They offered to wait until Cas could run back and grab some outdoor clothes, but Cas declined. He didn’t have them anyway.

The sooner they left, the sooner they could come back.

The day turned out to be warmer than expected, and by mid-afternoon, Cas hung his coat and blazer off the back of the chair pulled from the White’s trunk. 

It took him no time to following along with Chris’ lesson on which bait was best for the trout and how to cast far enough away from the shore for the fish not to see you, but also not hook yourself in the process. 

“I got a hook right in the shoulder once, wasn’t a pretty sight,” he said while attaching the casting spoon, Cas watching as his hands worked quick, “You gotta make sure your angle is good.”

Cas got the angle down on the first try and mimicked that with every cast afterward, receiving praise from Margot and Chris as they followed suit. A cast, wait, bob, pull -- nothing. Cast again, wait, bob, pull -- nothing again. On the third try, Margot managed to reel in a small little fish, too small to keep. Chris took a picture regardless of size ( _First catch of the trip!_ ) and Cas found himself smiling with their enthusiasm. 

After an hour and a half, Chris and Margot sat in their chairs, Margot crocheting a small something while Chris watched his bobber in the water. Cas stood standing, fishless still, now focused on only accomplishing that one task. The concentration helped to block out all the other thoughts that wanted to storm the front line and overtake him.

One thing that did pop up, that Cas pushed away as fast as he could, was the memory of Dean telling him how relaxing fishing was; how meditative it was (not his words, but his sentiment); how when you’re there, in nature, with nothing bother you, it’s comforting -- 

It wasn’t like that at all. 

Instead of his head void of thought, Cas struggled to keep his mind from wandering away from his defenses and letting those shadow thoughts inside. It was an active task, and Cas found himself gripping the pole a little too hard, making his movements jerkier. 

Chris reminded Cas to relax. He tried his best. 

Margot tried asking Cas about his personal life, love life, family -- 

Cas politely deflected. 

Four hours later, right when they decided to pack up and leave, Cas caught something. 

Chris jumped to his feet with a shout of joy and rushed over while Cas held the rod steady, trying to make it look like the fish gave him a fight. Waning powers or not, he was still strong enough to take on a fish. Cas could feel the pull, but he still had enough _oomph_ left to probably pull a shark out of the lake if he wanted to. 

With the gentle guidance of Chris, Cas followed instructions to bring the fish in slowly, but with enough force that it didn’t break away. Cas remained concentrated on his movements, making them seem as human as possible. 

A couple minutes later, an averaged sized cutthroat trout emerged from the water, trying to wiggle its way to freedom. 

“Boy, that’s a good size!” Chris clapped Cas on the back, “That’s dinner right there! Why don’t you throw it in the cooler.” 

Cas unhooked the fish, trying not to look it straight in the eye. The creature knew its last moments were coming to an end. It felt weird in Cas’s hand, still wet, scales sliding across his palm with every jerk and twist. It fought to free itself, thinking it had a choice. 

It wanted to live. 

Finally off the line, Cas walked over and tossed the thing into the cooler. 

Cas stuck around for dinner that night because it was the polite thing to do. 

He answered more questions about his life because it was the polite thing to do. _He grew up in Kansas City. Went to a community college. No, I’m not married. No, I don’t have a significant other._

Cas asked questions back, because it was the polite thing to do, even if he ran out of them early in the meal. Thankfully, Margot had no problem taking up the task of talking about their stories over the course of the past six decades. 

They ate the fish they caught, Cas avoiding a portion from his own catch. 

He could just barely make out the taste of his food. 

Before turning in for the night, Cas slipped into the general store to buy a toothbrush and paste with the little change he had left. The clerk frowned, annoyed a customer barged in right as he planned on closing up shop. Cas ignored him, mumbled _thanks_ when the clerk pushed some change back along with his purchase. The door slammed and locked behind him as his feet touched the first step.

That night, Cas scrubbed his teeth, tongue, and reached as far back as he could with the brush to get the taste of trout out of his mouth. 

3

Cas finished the original book he started that morning, then finished another short one before two a.m. hit him like a ton of bricks. 

Time passed on without him realizing, and it was only when Cas closed the book and stretched did he realize how much space the overnight quiet took up. There were some creatures making themselves known in the darkness, muted by the window and the shades, but seldom else. Standing in the middle of the sitting room/bedroom, staring at the unmade bed, Cas stayed still as the silence descended on him like a heavy blanket. 

He felt nothing. 

Around eight in the morning, still half-dozing while watching the sunlight and mountains meet again, Cas heard a knock on the door. Margot called his name, not too loud, questioning if he was up and wanted to go to Jackson that day.

Cas didn’t move. 

She didn’t try again, and Cas heard the scraping of gravel as she retreated. A shot of guilt spiked through him. The Whites were nice. They were very nice, but Cas didn’t want another day of questions. Coming up with lie after lie could only get him so far. 

They were good people, but Cas wanted to grieve a little longer. 

Eventually, Cas slid from the covers. He didn’t sleep as long, only two hours on, two hours off, then some light dozing. His body couldn’t decide if it wanted to rest or not; sometimes his legs wanted to move while other times Cas felt like heavy weights pinned him to the mattress. Once upon a time, the body knew how to rest, but six years passed and all that learned behavior disappeared. 

For the first time in two days, Cas checked his phone. More learned behavior to unlearn. 

As soon as his hand closed around the phone and pulled it off the bookshelf, he wanted to throw it across the room. Break it; ruin it; complete annihilation. He couldn't be tempted to look if it didn’t exist. 

But Cas kept the damn thing in his hand and swiped to see the lock screen.

 _“1 New Message”_

It didn’t say from who. 

A faint buzzing sensation started in Cas’s fingers, traveling up his arms and into his spine. The feeling radiated as he moved against his mind screaming at him to put the phone away, that you’re supposed to _move on_ and there was _nothing left to be said --_

A few taps and he brought up the text app. 

[The message came from Sam.](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21484999)

_Can we talk? Not feeling too hot_

The pressing weight of guilt came roaring back, and this time Cas did throw his phone, but onto the bed instead of into a wall. It bounced once, then bounced again off the mattress and landed with a dull clatter on the hardwood. 

Cas took his coat and left without seeing if the thing survived. 

He took the car and drove out of town, deciding on a northern path. 

The claustrophobia started to settle in again as he got closer to the mountains and seeing mountains in his rearview mirror, then beside him on either side as he turned northbound. The need to just _go_ , get out of here just _go_ ballooned inside him and Cas pressed his foot on the gas a little more. The fast way out no longer was an option. No wings. No ‘gone in a flash’ or in the blink of an eye. Slow, sluggish, and loud was all that remained. 

Driving on auto-pilot, Cas guided himself back to the Jenny Lake entrance. 

It wasn’t his destination, nothing was, but the lake looked welcoming sparkling in the morning light. It looked more inviting than yesterday. The temperature dropped a few degrees from the previous day but people still milled about: hikers, daytrippers, fishermen, and boaters. All with a goal for the day.

Cas sat in his car, focusing on a group of hikers gearing up. He needed to narrow his concentration again. The bad things started to creep up behind him. 

The blonde one reminded Cas of Claire of all people, but taller and slightly older. She went from person to person making sure their backpacks were snug and hitched up properly. She stopped at another woman in the group and took her by the shoulders, talking. The other woman seemed nervous but nodded her head. Cas sympathized. 

Those mountains were intimidating. 

Three women and three men, all kitted out in hiking gear from boots to pants, gloves, and jackets. Everything seemed set and in order. The blonde one nodded to all of them before turning and starting up the path, taking a left at the fork instead of a right like Cas and company did the previous day. 

Cas waited until he couldn’t see their heads between the trees anymore as they descended down the little hill. Once gone, he pulled out the brochure the check-in lady gave him which he shoved in his pocket without a thought. 

Several paths wound around the area, most leading up to the peaks. Cas followed the lines, deciding which one to take. His eyes wandered over the map, following the Jenny Lake Trail alongside the left side of the lake, where the hikers went and followed it to the Cascade Canyon Trail. That lead to Inspiration Point. 

The name drew Cas in and he flipped the map over to find Inspiration Point on the guide. Little magnification boxes jutted out and two photos stood out from the point: The mountain peaks and a view of Jenny Lake. 

Desperate for something to do and a distraction, Cas took the brochure and got out of the car, leaving his tie and blazer behind. They were too much of a conversation starter. 

When Cas reached the trailhead, he saw a boat landing with a line of people climbing aboard a transport ferry, cameras slung around their necks and backpacks dangling from their shoulders.

Cas make a quick flip and decided to take the boat shuttle instead. He’d get looks, looking a little too dressed up on the boat, but the option remained safer for him. A few hours of walking alone in the woods with his thoughts wouldn’t be beneficial in any way.

“Just you sir?” The operator asked, smiling in that annoying customer service way. 

“Yes, just me.” _Clearly_.

The operator continued to smile as they gestured for Cas to climb aboard and take a seat on one of the bench seats. Everyone on the boat settled into their seats, coupled up. A bench near the back remained open, and Cas shuffled over. 

The operator went over safety rules and Cas ignored them, watching the light play on the water instead. He wondered how deep the lake was.

The boat backed up out of the dock, slow as a snail, before turning and lurching forward as they took off. The engine hummed and vibrated beneath Cas’s feet, and he found the sensation oddly comforting. 

Cas watched as the lake whizz by, feeling the cool air hit his face; better than a cup of coffee and more interesting to look at than a parking lot.

A minute or two into the ride, Cas felt a light tap on his arm. Turning, he locked eyes with a younger boy, probably no older than twelve, looking at him with concern. The kid sat on the bench next to him, and his mother’s attention had turned to her phone. 

“Yes?” Cas asked, keeping his voice low, barely above the noise of the motor. 

“You’re wearing the wrong shoes, dude,” the kid said, pointing. Cas looked down at the dress shoes, the same old dress shoes that got him from point A to B for years --

“I’m fine,” Cas tried a reassuring smile, “Don’t worry about it.”

The kid narrowed his eyes, a brown so dark Cas could almost see himself reflected in them, and leaned in, glancing around to make sure they weren’t overheard.

“Are you going to kill yourself?”

The blunt words hit Cas like a swift boot kick to the stomach. 

“Why would you think that?” 

“You have shoes that will make you slip up there, it’s high by the way, and you have no water or anything. You’re in a suit --”

“I’m not in a suit,” Cas countered, “And there are people here with button-downs and jeans --”

The kid waved his hand, “That doesn’t matter. This all seems pretty random.”

Cas frowned, looking down at his coat and shirt.

“This is just what I’m wearing,” Cas said, running his hand over the fabric, “I promise you, I’m fine.”

 _Liar_ the shadow thoughts in his mind snapped back. 

The kid didn’t buy the half-assed explanation and opened his mouth to say so before his mother lifted her head and saw her son’s attention wandered. Pulling a face _Sorry about him!_ she tugged at his shirt. 

“Jimmy, leave the man alone,” the woman ordered, “Mind your business.”

Her eyes lingered on Cas, also taking in his appearance, before looking away and pulling her son with her. Jimmy took one more glance at Cas before grabbing his mother’s phone and opening up a game. 

Cas, for his part, wished he had enough money for some new clothing. 

The boat docked at the west shore boat dock, and everyone filed off one by one, Cas taking up the rear. Jimmy and his mother mercifully got off several people ahead, the mom looking green and wobbly. The boy threw another look in Cas’s direction, clear in its sentiment: I’m watching you. 

Cas nodded in understanding before Jimmy’s mom pulled him along, eager to get off the boat. 

People shuffled off, spilling onto the wooden dock. The mountains loomed ahead of them, some people craning their necks to see all the way up. The peaks of white stuck up between different peaks of evergreens, shining like a white knight. They were stoic, standing dutifully over the towns in Jackson Hole, not asked to do anything but stay put and look pretty. 

The Cathedral Group, according to the pamphlet.

Cas remained in the back of the group as they all started to head up the trail to their destination. A small smile crept onto his face as Cas saw Jimmy push his way through the pack and took the lead. 

The hike stretched for only a little over a mile, but Jimmy was right: There were some steep cliffs and dangerously narrow paths. As the group hiked up, they stretched out due to their own personal level of experience. None of them could look up at the view while they climbed, running the risk of losing their footing.

Cas had to pretend to struggle. He did feel too warm after a few minutes of a steep incline and took off his coat, rolling up his shirt sleeves underneath. But his breath never escaped him during the climb like others around him, and he didn’t _have_ to pause to “stretch” --

But he did anyway. 

He had to blend in. 

Twice during the hike, Cas saw Jimmy turn around and scan the people around him, finally catching Cas’s eye. Cas, both times, gave him a thumbs up and a small smile. _I’m good_.

Weirdly, it made Cas feel better to a small degree. He felt a slight pang of shame over the fact a child was so concerned about him -- but at least someone was. 

They finally reached Inspiration Point. 

Cameras snapped and people held their phones out as they looked to the east, overlooking the lake and the valley before them. They could _just_ make out the tops of the Gros Ventre Range on the other side of the valley.

The summit had more tourists from another boat group. The hikers Cas saw earlier in the parking lot had not made it yet. 

While everyone meandered about, Cas found a more solitary spot and finally turned to the west, looking up. 

The Cathedral Group, standing tall and mighty over inhabitants of the land below, stared back at Cas. 

A chill sprinted down Cas’s spine while he watched the clouds move past the peak. Standing at a distance, he could almost trick himself that the mountains were small, not as large as they thought, nothing super impressive -- 

But they were. The monuments stood nearly twelve times the size of his true form. 

They eclipsed him; eclipsed the sun when it moved to the west; eclipsed the valley on the other side that also begged for attention. They were the rulers of the land stretched out before them; benevolent; drawing flocks of people to kneel before them and praise them. The sun only brightened them to people’s eyes, but once the light crossed their axis, they grew shadowy and harsh. And yet, people still looked out onto the range in awe, even while in the unforgiving shadow of the giants. 

And yet -- their summits weren’t unreachable. 

Humans could climb, persevere, and patiently make their way up 13,000 feet and reach the top to look out at the world before them. They got to sit on the throne, share the view with the giants that existed for millions of years; see the view the protectors, guardians, could. They fought to gaze upon that sacred sight, and make their mark, their imprint on those slopes --

Nausea began to rise again deep within Cas, and he turned his head away, looking at the ground and surface-level things around him. Closing his eyes to quell the small dizziness that spouted, Cas steadied himself before wandering to an unoccupied rock, draped his coat over it, and sat. 

Cas turned his gaze off to the east, overlooking the lake and the valley, doused in dazzling sunlight. It was a sight for The Cathedrals, but only a glimpse at a safer level. He wasn’t allowed to go up to the top anymore for the breathtaking view. That privilege vanished, eroding over a short amount of time. 

As loud as a shout, a thought finally broke free from the pack held back by every reinforcement Cas could use as a defense:

 _Dean would like it here_. 

Heat rose to Cas’s face in a flash, and he held down a sob as hard as he could. The lake and valley grew blurry, and Cas blinked in quick succession, trying to clear his vision. Tears rolled down Cas’s face and he did nothing to stop them, letting them fall and hit his hands. 

“I thought you said you were fine.”

Cas jumped at the voice and turned away from the lake and saw Jimmy standing next to him, his backpack over one shoulder and unzipped. 

“I am,” Cas lied, wiping his face, “It’s a little overwhelming up here.”

Jimmy frowned, hesitated, then reached around and dug around in his bag, pulling out a snack wrapped in sleek silver packaging with a tongue on it. 

“You want a fruit rollup? I have three, and my brothers didn’t come with us.”

“I’m okay --”

“You don’t have a bag or anything, and you gotta be hungry,” Jimmy stated, holding out the snack, “Eat it. My mom says we get upset when we didn’t eat all day.”

Cas sighed and took the offer. Jimmy pulled out his own and immediately unwrapped it. Cas followed suit, and the two ate their snack in silence while watching the crowd explore around them. 

Neither of them turned to look at the mountains behind them for the duration of the trip.

Jimmy talked to him for the rest of the afternoon and on the boat ride home. Cas also talked a little with the mother, Heather, who had three little boys with Jimmy being the oldest. 

That conversation went easier than with the Whites, and he gave his story like he actually lived it. Both expressed sympathy, and as they departed the boat, Jimmy quietly apologized for thinking Cas planned on jumping.

“It’s okay,” Cas assured as they headed to the parking lot, “I wasn’t feeling my best, so you got that right.”

Jimmy frowned again, “You’re okay now though, right?”

Cas smiled and held out his fist which Jimmy bumped with his own.

“Yeah I’m good,” He looked up to Heather and extended his hand, “It was nice meeting you two.” 

Heather smiled and shook his hand, “You take care of yourself. It was nice meeting you as well.”

Jimmy waved goodbye as they turned and walked to a car that idled nearby with Heather’s husband behind the wheel, singing to a song with the two other children in the backseat. 

In the end, Cas decided to stay in the valley. 

It took him two seconds as he sat behind the wheel to realize two things: He had nowhere else to go, and the people around here were kind and thoughtful. They gave him the time of day, and genuinely liked him and those around them. The town was small, and once winter truly came, Cas would get bored most likely -- but he wanted to stay. He’d even learn how to fish.

When Cas returned to the cabin, the sun began its descent over the mountains, turning the sky deep purple into dark blue in the east. The long shadows of the Cathedrals fell over the valley, and Cas went over and shut the blinds without looking outside. He couldn’t avoid looking at them every day, but he had to stop staring them like they had any answers. 

The phone remained on the floor by the bed, abandoned for the day. 

Cas hesitated before leaning down and picking it up. The screen only had two small scratches, but otherwise remained unscathed. 

_2 new messages!_

Without allowing himself the time to overthink, Cas swiped the screen again, faster this time.[The messages were once again from Sam](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21484999):

_Cas call me we need to talk_

_Didn’t know you were taking off_

A sudden burst of anger flared through Cas, not at Sam but at Dean. It had the same taste of frustration that he had three days prior when he left the Bunker. This wasn’t his fault. He didn’t have to explain anything. This wasn’t a burden he wanted on his shoulders anymore.

Sam’s messages made it clear Dean didn’t tell him what truly happened. 

It wasn’t Cas’s responsibility anymore. 

He powered the phone down and put it in a dresser drawer. Out of sight, out of mind. Making a mental note in the back of his mind to contact the Whites the next morning, Cas turned to the bookshelf, ready to start a new story.

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone! I come crawling to you with my coda fic that kept growing and growing. I wanted this out a while ago, but I guess my brain took its time knowing there was no episode this week.
> 
> "Golden Time" was a really beautiful episode, and this fic was almost going to be about Sam and Eileen but I realized I had almost nothing up yet about Cas's perspective. 
> 
> Two other Coda fics are linked in this fic, one for 15x03 and another for 15x05. 
> 
> If you would like to listen to the version of the song I kept on repeat while writing this,[ here it is!](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GIuazAM4wws)
> 
> The photo is from parkchasers.com
> 
> Thank you for reading! This was lightly edited so if you see any errors, kindly let me know!


End file.
